


Why They Left Me

by Topographical_Map_Of_Utah



Series: Look For The Force [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, little baby Chirrut and Baze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topographical_Map_Of_Utah/pseuds/Topographical_Map_Of_Utah
Summary: It's a hard question for a six year old to ask.





	

 When Baze woke his first thought was that it was raining. It didn't take him very long to dismiss that thought, though. Jedha's last rainfall had been six months ago, and who knew when the next would come. A hundred years, perhaps. Yawning, he sat up and squinted around the cramped room, cold already seeping into his bones. It was really just a section of the front room partitioned off with a quilt strung up on wire, but it was enough space for two cots and the two little boys who slept in them.

"Chirrut? Are you sleeping?" Baze whispered into the dark, listening for the squeak of the mattress two feet away. 

"Yes." A muffled, teary voice replied. Baze spent a moment considering the answer, then he rolled out of his own cot and joined Chirrut in his, wrapping himself and his quilt around the sobbing boy and squeezing a bit too tightly, one hand gently caressing Chirrut's close-cropped head. Baze's Mama had cut his hair the day Chirrut had shown up on her doorstep, being carried along pickaback by Baze and covered with the grime of time spent begging on the streets. There had been a momentary flicker of uncertainty in his Mama's expression, then her face had softened into a warm smile, with a little pride hiding in the turn of her lips. The crinkles around her eyes meant it was a real smile, Baze knew. He had described them to Chirrut as looking like the feeling of ridges on creased and wrinkled bedsheets, safe and warm. 

"What's the matter? Did you hear a monster?"

"No."

"Did you pee the bed?"

" _No_."

"Then what?" Because aside from those two options, Baze didn't quite know what would bring a person to tears in the middle of the night.

"My family."

"What _about_ your family?"

"I dreamt about them. Our house." Chirrut said softly. Baze blinked at that revelation. In all the six months they had known each other, Chirrut had never spoken a word about where he had come from. All Baze knew was that Chirrut's family was _with the Force_ , a state of being he could not hope to grasp, even at the ripe old age of seven. Perhaps his Mama would have an answer for him.

"It's okay, Chirrut. Your family's with the Force, remember? They're safe there." Strangely, Chirrut shook his head, a forlorn little gesture that took Baze's heart in its hand. "They're not?" he asked. Chirrut never lied; that much Baze knew. "Then where..." 

"Maybe they are with the Force. I dunno. I say with the Force 'cause..." Chirrut lay a thin hand on his chest and shrugged. After nearly half a year of both Baze's Mama and Baze himself pushing food on him the kid was still as thin as a rake. There was more colour in the hollows of his cheeks, though. That marked at least a bit of progress. "'Cause I want them to be with me. I dunno if they're actually with the Force."

"So they could still be in Jedha?" Hope bubbled up in Baze's chest as the idea took root in his mind. Why hadn't Chirrut told him this sooner? "Chirrut, that's a good thing. We can find 'em, if they're here. Jedha's big, but it's not _that_ big. I bet you my dessert for the next two weeks that we can get you back home 'fore-"

"They don't want me."

"What?" Chirrut repeated what he had said, yet the meaning died in the ten centimetres separating the two of them. "Why?" The hopeful plans Baze had been nurturing all seemed to wither up, shrivel away to desert dust.  

"I'm broken." His voice was quiet, resigned. "That's why, I guess."

"You're..." Baze reached out and traced the streaks on Chirrut's face, the mark of the tears he had shed. Broken wasn't the word for him. Baze's vocabulary was limited, so he couldn't think of what Chirrut _was_ , but he knew what he wasn't. Not broken, or stupid, or weak, or pitiful (a word picked up at the market). Chirrut could laugh and run and sing like any other kid, couldn't he? He could cry like any other kid, too. Only thing different was that he didn't look you in the eye while he did it.

"The Force made me broken, and I dunno why it would do that." Chirrut relaxed as Baze rocked him a little, but his voice was still pained. "I dunno why it would take me away from my family."

"What was it like, your family?" Baze couldn't help but ask. Chirrut screwed up his face, soft blue eyes fixed somewhere above Baze's head as he gathered and sorted the sounds and smells and textures of his former life, piecing them together in a simple mosaic.

 "I had a Papa, I think." Chirrut began. "He was singing all the time, and the air 'round him tasted like the market does." Chirrut took a shuddering breath. "I think...I had brothers and sisters. There were always footsteps upstairs, and the place I think I slept was loud and smelled like you." Like dirt and summer sweat, a scent native to young children who spend their days at play. "I had a Mama, like you, but she was away a lot. I remember that sometimes the front door would open, and everyone would start running and yelling. I think that happened when she came back."

"It sounds nice."

"It was." Chirrut confirmed, picking at the stitches in his coverlet. "I think I saw something, too." 

"You did?" 

"Yeah. I saw a bowl." he recalled. "I saw a big blue bowl. It had a crack in it. There was something good inside and I got it all to myself." he licked his lips at the mere memory. "Lots of people were there and they were all smiling and singing..." Chirrut's smile faded, then. He cuddled closer to Baze and lowered his voice. "And maybe I got broken, after that. And maybe fixing me was too hard so instead they just..."

"I don't think they left you. And I don't think you're broken, neither." Baze couldn't understand abandonment, had had too much loyalty instilled in him. His own Papa would be here if he could, but death is a hard hurdle to leap. But Baze was alive, and as long as someone needed him, he would do his best to stay that way. "And even if they did leave, I'm not leaving." he assured Chirrut. "I'm not goin' away."

 "Promise?" Chirrut breathed. His eyes, still purplish from crying, were fluttering the barest bit. If Baze played his cards right he would be asleep within moments.

"Promise. You'll always have the Force, and you'll always have me. Got it?"

"Yeah. I'll always have the Force, and I'll always have you. I'll always have the Force, and I'll always have you. I'll always..." And then he was asleep, shallow breaths coming slow and sure into the collar of Baze's ragged sleep shirt. Yet, if Baze listened carefully, the cadence of that little chant could still be heard in Chirrut's soft, purring snores.

Baze nodded in silent satisfaction, fixing up the blankets around Chirrut and himself. Desert nights carried with them a stiff chill, the starchiness of wind that had been sailing unchallenged over the dunes shattering against the thin walls, scattering brittle shards of cold everywhere, touching everything. Except for Chirrut, who Baze had been sure to cover up in all the warmest blankets. For a moment he just watched Chirrut breathe, then he nuzzled closer and closed his eyes, too.

"You'll always have the Force, and you'll always have me." Baze repeated softly, voice gentle in Chirrut's pillow. "And even if the Force goes, I won't."

**Author's Note:**

> welp idk i like this verse and I wrote more


End file.
